


Unlocked

by queenitsy



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Future Fic, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-06
Updated: 2010-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of watching the Thanksgiving parade, Logan's pulling an 18-hour shift at the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlocked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mizzmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizzmarvel/gifts).



Logan had always wanted to be a doctor, but somewhere around 11:30 PM, he decided he hated Cedars-Sinai and never wanted to see it again. Which wasn't fair, really, it wasn't like it was the _hospital's_ fault that medical residents were expected to work 18-hour shifts and _some_ of them had to work on Thanksgiving.

It was just that he liked traditions. It was like pajamas on Christmas, dressing up for Halloween, or sending Dak a singing telegram for Valentine's. He knew it was all silly, but given how scattered his life had been since he was a teenager, he liked that there were at least a few days a year he could count on to anchor him. And it wasn't like he needed a feast. He didn't need turkey or pie, and frankly, he didn't even like football that much.

Thanksgiving meant the Macy's parade and cheering for whichever of his friends happened to be performing (since, even seven years after BTR had called it quits, he still always knew _someone_ on a float). It meant sitting on the drinking hot cocoa (for the kids -- Irish coffee for the adults). It meant family (in an extended, found-family sense). Thanksgiving was a real gather-around-with-people-you-love holiday. He'd managed to pull that off every year since they'd moved to LA, either with the band, or home visiting his folks, or with Dak and _his_ folks. Even through med school and two years of internship, he'd had luck on his side.

It was bound to run out sometime. This year, the Knights were in Minnesota with Kendall's grandmother, James was in New York performing something from his album for the parade, Carlos was in Chicago with his wife's family, and since Logan was working anyway, Dak had agreed to reshoot some scenes from his upcoming film. In Vancouver. Which meant that when Logan finished his day from hell, handling drunken admissions who were all on the brink of puking from too much turkey, he'd be trudging home to an cold, dark, empty house.

It sucked. If he was going to have to work 18 hours on Thanksgiving, he at least wanted someone to give him a back rub when he got home. That shouldn't have been so much to ask.

He was almost woozy with exhaustion by the time he pulled into the driveway next to their not-so-modest, 2,600 square foot bungalow. He glanced up and scowled. He'd left a light on in the living room. He wasn't exactly a penny pincher -- he'd invested his BTR money pretty wisely, if he did say so himself -- but there was no point in being wasteful, which he had. All day. _Ught._

He hadn't locked the door, either, apparently. This was what he got for leaving at the crack of dawn before he'd had any coffee. It was a good thing Dak _wasn't_ home; Logan was always on Dak's case about that. Dak never remembered to lock the door once he was inside and had even been known to leave his keys in the lock, if he found out Logan had forgotten when he'd left for the day, Logan would never hear the end of it.

Wait. He was _Logan Mitchell_. He didn't forget things like that, no matter how little coffee he'd had.

"…Hello?" he called into the dark hallway. He hung his keys on the rack (there was a reason he never lost them, it wasn't obsessive-compulsive, it was a _useful habit_ ), and flipped on a hall light, but there was no answer.

He sighed and started down the hall --

"Surprise!"

He absolutely did _not_ scream, definitely not like a girl at all, and he certainly didn't cower. Really.

"Logan, it's just me."

He lowered arm he'd raised defensively, blinked, and looked into the living room. There was only one small lamp on, and light from the TV -- and there was Dak, holding a mug, light flickering across his still-cover-worthy features. Which maybe looked even better than usual when he was grinning in amusement.

Logan managed to hold his scowl for roughly an eighth of a second before the grin overtook him. "You -- Dak! You should have called!"

"And ruin the surprise?" He shook his head. "No. But I _did_ TiVo the parade this morning, and _here_ is your coffee." He winked. "I got one of the nurses to text me when you left the hospital. Turns out, she used to have a poster of me on her wall and was totally willing to help me out."

"Yeah, her and basically every girl in the country," Logan said, still smiling as he sank down on to the couch.

"And some of the boys," Dak reminded him. As if he needed reminding. Dak handed him the mug. "Hope you don't mind that I didn't cook. There's take out in the fridge, though."

"Not hungry," Logan said. He sipped his drink -- it burned, bitter in the best way -- and Dak put an arm around him as he started the recorded program. "You know," Logan mused, "you left the door unlocked again."

"Logan..."

"Just saying."

"Yeah, yeah." Dak rolled his eyes, Logan could practically feel it, but it felt oddly nice. Comfortable, familiar. Warm. "Anyway, wait until you see what James is wearing for the parade, it looks like they skinned a Muppet to make his coat."

Logan laughed. "Don't think I didn't realize you changed the subject, there. But…" He leaned into Dak, mug in hand, feeling the tension fade away.

"But?"

"I'm not going to waste the first holiday we've spent alone together. Happy Thanksgiving."

Dak didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. He was _there_.


End file.
